Domestication
by AoiKuroNekoSan
Summary: "Tony!" Bruce called after him. "I'm not staying." Tony walked back over and patted him on the shoulder. "Sure thing buddy, you keep telling yourself that." Dr. Bruce Banner is not used to staying in one place for too long. He doesn't belong anywhere. After a while he's got to move on. Right?
1. After the Battle

**Okay, so like many people, I have fallen into an obsession with _The Avengers_ movie. There are a lot of good fics out there (I like some of the oc ones especially), and I wanted to give it a try. **

**This begins around the point where Iron Man falls out of the sky, and they've won the battle. The main focus will be Bruce Banner, and his growing friendship with Tony, though the rest of the team will be featured as much as possible. As far as other relationships go, Tony is with Pepper, and Hawkeye may or may not be with Black Widow. **

**I really don't own _The Avengers_.**

* * *

Bruce Banner stirred. "Our friend awakes!" Announced a booming voice in excitement. It was a voice that Bruce recognized. He squinted, trying to focus on the form of the Norse god Thor, who was leaning over him.

"Finally!" He heard Tony Stark exclaim. "Really Banner you can't keep me waiting like this. I'm hungry and after all this heroism I deserve some shawarma—whatever it is." Stark's visor was raised, though his face revealed only vague annoyance. Bruce frowned deeply at the sight of him. The Iron Man suit was badly banged up. There were scratches across the entire surface and sections of the paint had been forcibly scrapped away. Tony's arm hung loosely around Steve Rodgers, who was stiffly trying to support the billionaire's weight. Bruce struggled to stand up. Thor immediately reached down a strong arm and pulled the scientist to his feet.

"Are you, um, okay?" Bruce asked, his eyes flitting around to assess each member of the temperamental team. The Captain shifted for a moment, his hand gripping at his side. Blood dripped softly between his fingers. Agent Romanoff had a solid stance, and a tough look on her face, but her head was oddly quirked to the side. The solemn Agent Barton was favoring his left leg. Thor alone seemed physically uninjured, but his facial muscles were tensed. Bruce recognized all too well the pain of a person who was trying to hold back his emotions.

However, Rodgers managed an earnestly polite smile.

"It's nice of you to ask Dr. Banner...we'll all be fine. It's you we're worried about at the moment. How are you feeling?" Bruce rose an eyebrow, thinking that Steve's definition of 'fine' was debatable.

Bruce's body ached, but not as much as it would have after an involuntary transformation. He looked down at himself.

"At least I'm wearing pants," He answered with a shrug.

Thor nodded distractedly. "We shall be thankful for small blessings," He muttered.

"That's the spirit." Tony grinned widely. He stumbled forward, tripping on small chunk of building out of his way. He was undeterred. "Now onto the shawarma!" Bruce's unwitting smile flipped upside when Tony coughed violently, some of the dust from the rubble floating up around him. Rodgers grabbed his elbow, steadying him.

"You should really get yourself checked out," Bruce told him concernedly.

"And you should really put a shirt on," Tony countered. "But hey, I'm not complaining." Romanoff rolled her eyes, an amused glint in her eyes.

"Save your flirting for later you two, we still have some unfinished business to attend to." From her side, Barton's eyes narrowed decisively.

"Personal business," He added quietly. "I _will_ put an arrow in his eye." Thor looked up suddenly.

"If you speak of my brother—"

"Yeah?"

"I would ask you not to harm him," Thor finished.

"You're joking." Barton clenched his fists, his eyes grew wide.

"I jest not," Thor tiredly assured him. His shoulders slumped. "I would ask you to leave his...punishment to my people. Loki will be brought to justice."

"And why not now? Why not by my hands?" Barton wanted to know. Rodgers was looking between the two, his jaw tightening.

"Loki has done much wrong, and I understand he has caused you terrible pain but...Please..." Thor's words got away from him. Barton shrunk back. The pure humility in the Asgardian prince's voice was surprising. Romanoff placed a gently firm hand on her partner's arm. Taking that he did not push her away as a good sign, she pulled him closer to her. Rodgers caught her eye, she gave him a quick nod. The young old solider relaxed.

"Alright then. After the damage Loki took from the Hulk," Bruce blinked, trying to recall the hazy memories. "I'll bet he hasn't moved from the top of Stark tower. We should go there right away and make sure the threat is contained."

"Agreed, I'll contact SHIELD." Romanoff put a hand up to her ear. "Director Fury?" She took a step away from the group to work things out. Barton stuck by her like a shadow.

Thor frowned. Rodgers gave him a sympathetic look.

"Thor, he has to be locked up. At least until we find away to get him back to Asgard."

"We could use the tesseract," Stark piped up. "That glowy cube thing's got way more than enough power."

"That could work. We would have to run some tests…" Bruce ran a hand over his chin, feeling excited by the prospect of working with such a mysterious object.

"Yes. I cannot go back the way I came. We shall discover a new way to bring my brother home. Though before that, he must be imprisoned...I will accompany him," Thor said. Rodgers shot him a questioning look. Thor rumbled a sigh. "This time I will make certain my brother does not escape. I will not let him harm another." They were quiet as they thought of Coulson, as the took in the destruction that surrounded them.

"Good idea guys, but," Tony raised a finger in the air. "First we'll all get some grub together."

"Well, we are a team...I think," Rodgers said, glancing over to watch Romanoff and Barton coming back towards them. Romanoff discretely handed Bruce a first aid kit she seemed to have drawn out of thin air. Thor looked surprised for a moment by the invitation. Then he nodded enthusiastically.

"We have fought together, and now we will feast together! Though I shall not enjoy it as much as I would wish to."

"Fury is sending some agents to Stark Tower to collect Loki. Though he said we should get there first, just in case," Romanoff told them.

"Okay, so let's go people," Tony called. Rodgers moved to help him, but Tony swatted him away. "Keep your hands to yourself red white and blue—I've got Jarvis." Rodgers raised his hands in amused surrender. Tony started arguing with his A.I. "Jarvis? Really? What do you mean 'I'll have to walk.'? Iron Man should not have to walk Jarvis." Bruce inwardly chuckled at Tony's tone. "Yes, yes, I know the system is shot but there's got to be another way to…" Tony's eyes strayed to Thor's arms which were crossed, his hammer laying loosely at his side. "Oh Jarivs, you're going to love this! Just a second guys." Tony spoke fast to Thor, gesturing around wildly.

Bruce turned to Rodgers, holding up the first aid kit. "I can patch you up in the meantime. If you want."

"Thank you doctor," Rodgers agreed readily, settling down on a pile of rocks.

"Making sure Loki is detained is top priority, but since I doubt he's even woken up yet," Bruce winced. "I'm going on a supplies run," She announced. "I'll be back before Stark finishes playing around." She looked pointedly at Barton, and then sprinted off. He sourly watched her retreating form, his empty quiver bouncing on against her back.

Tony spent the next several minutes convincing Jarvis and Thor that it would be a good idea for Thor to call upon his lightning and strike Tony with it. Thor was dubious, and Jarvis even more so, but Thor deferred to Tony's experience with electronics, and Jarvis could not disobey a direct order from his creator. As usual, Tony Stark managed to get what he wanted.

"Hit me up!" He insisted, as Thor held his sparking weapon aloft. Bruce watched uncertainly, pausing in his ministrations to Rodgers.

There was a bright flash that ensconced the man completely, before Tony emerged from a cloud of dust, his helmet's bright eyes blazing.

"That felt great." Tony's voice came from inside the suit. Rodgers shook his head unbelievingly.

"That man has all the luck," He muttered under his breath. Bruce just grunted.

"What just happened?" Barton wondered aloud.

"It's just Stark being Stark," Romanoff told him, coming up from behind them. "By the way Banner, I got you another present." She tossed him a black t-shirt. Bruce pulled it on, sniffing it in surprise.

"It's clean," He voiced his appreciation.

"I went back to the Quinjet," Romanoff elaborated.

"Well uh, thanks." Bruce told her. He finished bandaging Steve's side.

"Thank you, and excuse me for a moment, someone needs to tell Stark to stop acting like a kid." Steve stood up quickly, going over to where Tony was flying loops in the air as Thor watched. Bruce pulled the first air kit onto his lap.

He eyed the two agents. "Do you need—" He started to ask.

"No," Romanoff and Barton cut him off in unison.

"Are you sure?" Bruce rubbed some dirt off his eyebrows.

"Yes," Romanoff said authoritatively. Bruce tried again.

"Listen, I just wanted to see... Agent Romanoff your neck could be sprained, and Agent Barton your leg..." He trailed off at the looks on their faces.

"No thanks Banner." Romanoff's eyes narrowed. "We'll get fixed up after we apprehend Loki. I don't want to face him covered in unnecessary bandages. It will be more effective if we look our strongest." She stood up a bit straighter.

"And our most dangerous," Barton continued, as Romanoff handed him his newly filled quiver.

"I'll give him my best mad scientist smirk then," Bruce said, having no intention of turning into the other guy again just yet.

"Do you practice it in the mirror?" Tony, who had just flown over, asked.

"I don't have to practice," Bruce told him, his lips curving upwards.

"Stark, would you stay still for just one second!" Rodgers came rushing after him. "We have to decide on our plan of action."

"Just give me two minutes," Tony shouted to the annoyed Captain. "This power-up is fun." His thrusters engaged and he speed upwards. "405 percent, woo!" Iron Man suddenly face planted into the side of a building.

"Tony...?" Bruce called.

"Okay, the steering is still off, that's not fun." Tony came back down a lot more slowly. "Perhaps walking isn't too bad." Rodgers looked oddly vindicated.

* * *

The Avengers found Loki passed out in the middle of Tony's penthouse floor. Barton immediately cocked an arrow into his bow, aiming it straight for the villain's eye.

"Hawk man, I thought we had agreed upon not harming my brother." Thor frowned.

"It's Hawkeye, or Barton. And I didn't say anything about not intimidating him," Clint responded. Thor breathed out loudly through his nose.

"If that is all you wish to do then I will not protest."

"Together then," Natasha said, pulling a out a gun. Steve held up his shield in his most impressive pose. Tony raised a glowing hand. Thor begrudgingly extended Mjölnir. Bruce pushed his glasses further up his nose. The others turned and stared at him.

"What?" He questioned.

"Perhaps the Lady Romanoff can lend the good doctor a weapon? If that would makes us stand more solidly as one," Thor suggested. Romanoff hesitantly fingered one of the loaded holsters on her body.

"Want one Banner?" She asked him. Bruce snorted.

"Thanks Romanoff, but I think I've reached my intimidation quota for the day. And I'm sure he remembers it more clearly than I do." The team suddenly felt their eyes drawn to the Loki sized hole that the former Asgardian was embedded in.

"I don't envy him," Romanoff shuddered slightly. Barton frowned, but Bruce gave her an apologetic smile, which she returned.

A groan echoed throughout the room. Loki began to sit up. As Bruce watched him a familiar heat smothered his coherency.

"Uh-oh."

* * *

Bruce ended up 'hulking out' again anyway. When he came to Tony lent him yet another set of clothes.

"With all these quick changes I feel like an actor," Bruce mumbled. However, he didn't have much time to consider the rising frequency of his incidents.

There was some disagreement when the Shield agents arrived. Thor would not let them take Loki away without his accompanying them, though he refused to leave yet, saying that he had promised to dine with his new friends. In the end the six superheroes left the uncomfortable group of agents standing over Loki, who was sitting at the penthouse bar, somewhat bashed up, but calmly sipping on his drink.

The team had mixed opinions about shawarma.

"I like it," Tony decided after a couple of bites.

"It's not bad," Bruce agreed after a large swallow. Transforming took a lot out of him, so really he would eat anything at the moment.

"Hmmm…" Romanoff made a noncommittal noise. Barton shrugged, leaning his injured leg up against her chair. She gave it a glance and took another small bite of her food. Thor was gobbling his down, already on his third serving.

"You might want to slow down," Rodgers told him, yawning. "You'll make yourself sick." Thor ignored him.

"You're falling asleep," Tony pointed out. "What's wrong, past your bedtime gramps?" Rodgers frowned at him, placing his elbow on the table, leaning his chin into his hand.

"Some coffee would be nice," Romanoff admitted. Heads nodded all around the table. Thor slammed his fist against the table and belched loudly.

"Excuse me," He said. Barton and Tony looked amused. "I enjoy that drink. I would welcome some very much." Tony wiped his greasy hands, balling up his napkin after he'd finished.

"Well then, coffee and a visit to your brother?"

"Yes, it is time." Thor stood solemnly. Then a look of nausea passed over his face. "I am feeling unwell," He said, quickly exiting the run down restaurant. Barton and Romanoff exchanged a look and slowly put down their food. Rodgers, who hadn't touched his, stood as well.

"Ma'am if you could lead us to some coffee," He stifled another yawn. Romanoff nodded sharply, helping Barton up. "Stark, Banner, let's head out now."

"You know, there's this coffee place I've been meaning to try out," Tony started thoughtfully. Romanoff glared. "Only joking." Tony raised his hands up in surrender, throwing some money down on the table, and following the other three out the door. Bruce blinked, noticing it was a lot more than would be necessary to pay for their meal. The middle-aged woman who had been sweeping up some wreckage in the corner came over and started counting the money excitedly.

"Oh thank you! Thank you!" She exclaimed. "This will be enough to pay for repairs." She beamed at him, and to Bruce's horror, engulfed him in a strong hug. When she let go, Bruce shifted uncomfortably, wanting to say that he had nothing to do with her sudden good fortune. "Here," The woman just kept talking. "I'll get the rest of this to go for you." In lightning fast speed she managed to wrap up everyone's leftovers and hand him a paper bag. Bruce took it, and walked out silently.

Tony was standing at the entrance waiting for him. "Took you long enough."

"…I would've been out sooner if you hadn't decided to be so damn charitable." Bruce wasn't sure what to think about the man's actions.

"Why, what on earth are you talking about?" Tony asked in a faux incredulous tone. Bruce stared at him.

"Nothing," He answered finally.

"Good, now let's catch up with the others." Tony grabbed his arm and dragged him forward. Bruce tried to ignore his usual awkwardness at the physical contact, and reached a hand into the bag. He munched on the leftover food as they made their way over to a mostly undestroyed Starbucks.

* * *

Thor's goodbye was an emotional one. The now gagged and restrained Loki rolled his eyes as his brother hugged every one of the humans in turn.

"I will return to fight along side all of you," He promised. "There are matters I must take care of, but my heart still yearns for Midgard."

"We'll be happy to see you again." A still sleepy Steve smiled up at him.

"Yeah, yeah Billy S." Tony was leaning nonchalantly up against a wall. "Come on back down once you've dealt with all your family issues. And next time you'll have to introduce me to astrophysicist girlfriend of yours. It sounds like an unlikely match, but I've seen a picture. She's hot." Thor got a dreamy look on his face.

"Ah, New Mexico." Barton said under his breath. "Good times."

"Yes, I must see Jane Foster again, and soon." Thor responded, then he became confused. "Pictures are a device the departed Son of Coul has explained to me...but I do not understand, did Jane Foster appear feverish to you in the image you saw?"

"Um, no." Tony shook his head. "I just meant she's good looking. You are one lucky man."

"I am." Thor nodded. "She is a strong, wise, and very attractive woman."

"_Mr. Stark_." Jarvis's voice echoed throughout the room. Thor's eyes widened, and he glanced around the room, looking for the source. Rodgers was startled, automatically jumping into a fighting position. He had started to fall asleep standing up. "_I thought I should inform you that Miss Potts has called your phone fourteen times. She is currently on her way to this building._" Tony blinked strongly.

"Speaking of strong, wise, very attractive women." He turned on his heel and rushed off.

"Show yourself!" Thor shouted, puzzled.

"It's just Jarvis," Tony told him reassuringly. He came back with a Bluetooth shoved in his ear. "Pepper pick up, Pepper pick up…" He groaned. "Not again." He turned to Bruce. "She's going to blame me for this." Bruce wasn't sure how to respond.

"Who is Jarvis? And why can I not see him?" Thor wanted to know. Rodgers yawned.

"Some sort of electronic contraption?" He guessed.

"_That is correct Captain Rodgers. I am an Artificial Intelligence system. Mr. Odin-son, I do not have a physical form._" Jarvis explained himself to the two fish out of water.

"Oh," Rodgers mumbled, as if he understood.

"I see…" Thor spoke in a similar tone.

* * *

Shortly after Thor, the defeated Loki, and the SHIELD agents had departed, a tall redhead came bursting into the room. As soon as her eyes caught sight of Tony she rushed towards him. Tony smiled in spite of himself and opened his arms widely.

"Welcome home dear," He said brightly. Pepper stopped short in front of him, her gaze bouncing over his body, taking in his injuries. At the sight of his cocky grin, she scowled.

"Tony Stark," She started coldly. "You complete ass. Do you know what you've put me through the last couple of hours?"

"Now Pepper," Tony tried to reach out to her. She started punching at his chest. He winced slightly as her small fists hit his various bruises. Though he didn't move.

Barton looked at Romanoff. The two had decided not go back with the other agents. "Some woman," He mouthed to her, clearly impressed.

"She has to be to deal with him." She whispered back.

"Do you know how I would have felt if the last I ever heard from you was one missed call? If the last I saw of you was some news footage of you falling out of the sky? Tony, you are not allowed to die on me." She was winding down enough for him to catch her wrists and squeeze them gently.

"Okay. I won't. You know I'm Iron Man, I always make it out in the end." His words were as self-confident as ever, but his tone was soft.

"Should we leave?" Rodgers asked Romanoff quietly. The yelling had woken him up. Bruce's sharp ears caught the question. He looked over, wondering the same thing.

"Wait," Romanoff suggested.

Pepper let out a bitter laugh and traced the cut under Tony's eye with her thumb. "What if you don't make it out some day?" She asked seriously. Tony pursed his lips.

"You should have more faith in me Pepper," She just looked at him. "But if you're still so worried, you should consider the fact that I am now part of a team." He gestured behind him. Pepper blinked, as if only now noticing that there were four other people in the room. "They're pretty cool." Tony said, matter a factly. "Almost as cool as me."

"Nice to see you again Agent Romanoff." Pepper gave a brief nod of recognition to Romanoff. Tony had mentioned that after some initial dislike, the two had grown quite fond of each other. The other three she would only be able to recognize from their classified files.

"Likewise Miss Potts," Natasha said. She gestured to her left. "This is my partner Agent Barton."

"Hi," He said simply.

"Hi," Pepper echoed, giving him a warm smile.

"Glad to meet you ma'am, I'm Steve Rodgers," Steve spoke up. "I apologize for interrupting your reunion."

"_Miss_," Pepper insisted. "Or Pepper is fine too." She looked over the super solider, appreciating his built physique and polite tone, but also concerned about his exhausted expression and bandaged side. "And it's fine Captain, in fact, why don't you sit down?" Steve looked as if he was going to refuse, but he saw the somehow unharmed couch, gazed longingly at it for a moment, and then sat down.

"Bruce Banner," Bruce introduced himself quietly, offering a hand. Pepper shook it. He thought her mind must be flashing to all the warning labels in his file.

"He's the sexy, smart green one," Tony informed her bluntly. Bruce resisted the urge to wince at Tony's words, carefully studying Pepper's reaction. She just raised an eyebrow. "Or do you prefer the old all American man's rippling muscles?" Tony questioned.

Steve blushed from his lounging position on the couch. "Stark!"

"Oh they're all very good looking," Pepper said honestly, winking at all three. Tony pouted. Bruce stared at her in a mixture of surprise and amusement. Barton smirked, looking pleased with himself.

"Who's the best though?" Tony asked insistently. "It's got to be me, right?" Pepper smiled mischievously. The previous argument seemed to have melted into thin air.

"Actually, I think Agent Romanoff would win that one. Though I have yet to met Thor…"

Romanoff let out a burst of laughter.

"Why thank you Miss Potts."

"No problem at all."

Rodgers gaped, Bruce coughed, Tony sucked in a breath.

"And somehow I'm okay with that," He said, catching Barton's eyes and wiggling his eyebrows. Barton nodded in agreement.

* * *

Somehow the five avengers and the lively Pepper all ended up staying in what was left of Stark Tower.

"Most floors are relatively fine," Tony informed them with a shrug. "There are several apartments scattered throughout with beds and everything. Really, you could each have your own floor if you felt like it." Suddenly his eyes gleamed. "Hey, now there's an idea." He turned to Pepper, who was sitting close up against him. "What do you say, want to make brand new baby with me?"

Rodgers fell off of the couch, and quickly stood up. "I think I'll head to bed now. Goodnight everyone." He looked around, realizing he didn't know where to go. "Um…"

"_I can relay directions to you Captain Rodgers…If you could first step inside the elevator to your right_," Jarvis said. Rodgers uncertainly got into the metal box.

"I want fifty percent," Pepper told Tony.

"Aw…how about thirty?"

"Fifty or nothing Tony."

"Well…if I get most of the design rights…"

Barton's head was starting to lull on to Romanoff's shoulder. Natasha clenched her teeth as she turned her neck to look over at him.

"You sure you don't want me to take a look at that?" Bruce asked. Natasha shook her head very slowly, massaging her neck.

"I'll take care of it," She prodded Barton with her foot. "Barton, get up, I'm going to fix your leg before we go to bed."

"Mmm…sure thing Tash." The two them stood up, following Jarvis's helpful instructions.

Bruce turned to see that Pepper and Tony had stopped talking and were now looking at him.

"You going to sleep too buddy, or are you in more of a partying mood?"

"I'm never in a partying mood." Bruce told him. Tony grinned.

"Monster movie marathon then?" He suggested. Bruce nearly laughed, nearly.

"Don't mind him." Pepper rolled her eyes. "He's hyperactive, like a child."

"Or a puppy," Bruce agreed. Tony nodded.

"Yes, I know, I'm very lovable."

All three of them laughed. Then Bruce stood up, cleaning his glasses while he tried to gather his thoughts. Bruce hadn't even been sure he should stay in the building, but it was only for one night, and the prospect of a clean bed sounded wonderful to him. But before that, "Are your injuries—" He started.

"Just scraps and bruises," Tony waved him away. "I've had worse." Bruce tried not to think too deeply on that. There was a protesting roar of anger in his mind when he thought about anyone harming Tony.

"Okay well, um, come and get me if you need anything," Bruce finished awkwardly. He made his way to the elevator, fully intending to go to sleep immediately. He was stopped by a playful punch to his arm. He stared at Tony.

"Night greenie," Tony said. "See you in the morning." Bruce shook his head. Tony Stark was unbelievable. He got into the elevator.

"Goodnight Tony," He added as an afterthought, just as the doors pulled shut.

* * *

**So that's it for now. I've got some of the next bit written already, but I'm not completely sure where I'm going with this, so anything could happen. **

**Please review, let me know what you think.**


	2. Recuperate

**Okay, so wow! I was so excited to see all the favorites, story-alerts, author alerts, and community adds…I'm especially grateful to the reviewers. ****Feedback is essential after all.**

KelpBass, **and** b **(thanks! here you go, hope you like it),** Currybean **(thanks a ton! I love these characters, so that means a lot to me. thank you, wow)**

**I really hope everyone enjoys this new chapter. :)**

**I don't own _The Avengers_. Tony would just buy himself back. (I don't own other things referenced either).  
**

* * *

Bruce woke, his eyes flickering to a freshly painted white ceiling. He felt the panic rising within him. Where was he? He forced himself to breath slowly, not wanting to have an incident first thing in the morning. His heart rate slowed as the memories of yesterday's events came rushing back to him. At that point Bruce didn't know whether to groan or smile. He settled for both, and then got up to wash his face in the adjoining bathroom.

He ignored his reflection in the mirror above the sink. Instead he focused his eyes on the stack of fresh towels laid on the counter. It was like he was staying at a fancy hotel. The idea that he would allow himself to stay in a building full of people was ridiculous, but that didn't stop him from taking a long steaming hot shower.

Only when he stepped back into the borrowed bedroom did he notice he had no clean clothes to wear. He had resigned himself to putting back on the same sweaty, torn, shawarma grease covered clothes from yesterday, when he suddenly caught sight of a piece of paper taped to the closest on the other side of the room.

'noticed your wardrobe was lacking, had Jarvis order these specially for you_—_Tony.'

The words were messily scrawled, and the message was a lot shorter than one would expect from the voluble rich guy. This was probably due to the fact that Tony rarely did something as low tech as write by hand. It was a nice gesture, though Bruce did not appreciate the thought of someone sneaking into the room in the middle of the night. Usually Bruce had better awareness than that, he supposed he had been more tired than he had realized.

He opened the closet door and froze at the sight of all the designer shirts, pants, and accessories. Though the clothes were more streamlined than he was used to, Bruce saw that Tony had taken care to include suitably stretchy pants. Bruce shook his head, picking out some of the simpler items. The most extravagant looking thing he ended up putting on were a pair of purple boxers.

Feeling refreshed in more ways than one, he stepped out of his temporary room and looked around. The entire floor was empty, and some areas were covered in plastic, waiting for further construction. "Ah, Jarvis?" Bruce asked suddenly.

"_Yes, Dr. Banner? Good morning sir_," Came the electronically British voice.

"I um, good morning," Bruce repeated. "I was wondering where everybody else had gotten to." As soon as words were out of his mouth he realized there was a high probability that the other three had left already. Romanoff and Barton seemed to strive for independency as much as possible, and there wasn't much love between Tony and the Captain.

"_Agent Romanoff, Agent Barton, Miss Potts, Master Stark, and a disgruntled Captain Rodgers are all located in the kitchen and dinning area two floors above you_," Jarvis informed him. Bruce smiled openly, getting into the elevator.

"I'm guessing that Tony's doing something to get on the Captain's nerves?" He said aloud. Tony succeeded at this without even trying.

"_The combination of Master Stark's antics and the modern appliances seems to be rather overwhelming for Captain Rodgers_. _Here you are sir._" The elevator doors opened.

Tony and Rodgers were arguing in a kitchen unit. They stood over the stove, Rodgers grumbling about something while Tony fiddled with a radio that was blasting rock music.

Pepper and Romanoff sat at a table not too far away, chatting amicably. Barton was seated at Romanoff's other side, straddling the back of his chair, staring vaguely at the floor.

Bruce walked in as quietly as possible, not wanting to ruin the nice atmosphere.

Romanoff and Barton spotted him first, inclining their heads identically towards him. Pepper gave him a welcoming smile.

"Morning Dr. Banner!" She called.

Tony and Rodgers turned together, breaking from their squabble for a moment to greet him.

"Good morning Dr. Banner, hope you've slept well," Rodgers cleared his throat.

"Uh yeah, thanks." Bruce nodded. Honestly it had been the best sleep he'd had for as far back as he could remember. Even the details of his nightmares were pleasantly hazy. "You?"

"Yes, I had a good night's rest…and I tried to thank Tony for his hospitality but…" Rodgers gave an exasperated look at the other man.

"Hey, I was just wondering how you could possibly sleep any more after seventy years of it!" Tony defended himself. "Anyway, hi Banner," Tony gave him a little wave. "It's nice to see that _somebody's_ wearing the clothes I laid out for them." Bruce wondered if everyone had gotten an entire new wardrobe.

"I'm fine like this," Romanoff answered. She was wearing black army style pants that were a bit large on her, and a grey men's t-shirt. Barton was wearing basically the same thing, though it fit him better. "Though talking about your choices, I would've you would have provided something skimpier." Barton and Rodgers frowned. Tony smiled nervously.

"Psh, I have more respect for you than that," Tony assured her.

"And more fear of the both of us," Pepper added in a tone that carried.

"I'm sure some of us are just more comfortable in our own clothes," Rodgers tried to mediate. He pulled at his SHIELD issue white t-shirt. Bruce felt certain that the old-fashioned brown trousers must have been custom made for the man out of time.

"Yeah well, your clothes are amazingly boring," Tony told him. He looked down at himself, appearing quite pleased with the ACDC shirt, and baggy jeans. Rodgers shrugged, and turned to Bruce.

"If you'd like, I'm trying to fix some breakfast," He said. "Only both the stove and its owner are being very uncooperative."

"I tried, but one can only simplify things to a certain extent." Tony clicked his tongue. "Maybe you'll have more luck." He clapped Bruce on the shoulder. "Explain to the capsicle why my customized stove still works." Bruce scratched his head.

"It's arc reactor powered?" He asked. Tony smiled at the question.

"Ah, well in a matter of speaking it is, but ignoring the possible detrimental effects of using the building as a power source for what could have been an Einstein-Rosen bridge, the thermodynamics are still a little_—_"

"Please no more," Rodgers groaned. Bruce blinked.

"Um Captain Rodgers," He began.

"Steve is fine," Steve cut in. "I rarely get to be just Steve any more." Bruce nodded, he could relate.

"Steve. Right. This isn't really my thing, but I guess this building has it's own private energy source, which continues to recycle itself. So the stove still heats... despite much of the electricity and gas being down around the city."

"Oh…" Steve looked at Tony. "You know, that's all you had to say, I'm not stupid or anything."

"I keep forgetting you don't speak English." Tony nodded solemnly. Then a wide grin spread across his face. "Ooh, Jarvis, turn the radio up to eleven pronto."

"…_Very well Master Stark." _Bruce could almost swear that he heard the AI sigh.

The music blasted through the speakers and it became apparent why Tony loved it so much.

"This is my song! Literally." Tony added. "I, am, Iron Man…" He sang along.

"Unbelievable." Steve shook his head.

"I'll help you with that," Bruce offered to Steve. The physicist's stomach growled audibly at the sight of the food lined up on the counters. Steve chuckled. Tony danced around, singing loudly in both men's ears.

"That would be great," Steve sighed, shoving Tony out of the way. Bruce reached into his pocket and put on his glasses.

Between the two of them, food was quickly sizzling in the pans. Barton jerked his head up, sniffing the air. Bruce watched warily as the archer slunk over and did a quick search of the cabinets. Barton was stacking a large pile of dishes and silverware in his arms, but there was a slight limp to his gait. Bruce rubbed his chin.

"Barton do you need—" He started to ask.

"Doctor, the bacon!" Steve cried out. Smoke clouded Bruce's eyes glasses.

"Shit." Bruce pulled the pan off the stove to prevent the food from burning further. He glanced over to see how Barton was doing, and was relieved to see him standing at the table. Romanoff and Pepper were helping him set the table. "Sorry Steve, I'll make some more."

"This next song sucks," Tony announced disappointedly, finally getting Jarvis to switch off the sound system. He looked around him. "Huh, a nice little family breakfast. Cute." His tone was a mixture of mocking and hidden genuineness.

Bruce couldn't remember the last time he'd had a family meal. He supposed he blocked out most of those memories. A look passed across Romanoff's face. Barton grunted. Bruce had been almost glad that the information Shield had provided him was brief. There were certain details about a person that should stay private. Steve silently plated the potatoes.

"Food's finished," He announced.

"It looks great," Pepper said brightly. She popped up and helped Steve bring the food over to the table. Bruce blinked, walking over and sitting between Tony and Steve. Pepper turned and smiled at him. "You're actually better off that Tony was too distracted to help. This one time it took him three hours to make me an omelet—"

"You're forgetting the context," Tony gesticulated excitedly. "Considering we were in a plane at the time, I thought I did rather well."

During the rest of the meal Pepper teased Tony with amusing anecdotes about their shared past. Steve occasionally asked a question, seeming interested in the chance at learning more about his teammate. Romanoff alternated between egging Pepper on, and watching Tony squirm with a smug expression on her face. The normally quiet Barton burst out in laughter a couple of times. Tony kept asking Bruce to 'help defend my honor,' but Bruce was frankly too amused to interfere. They all ate heartily.

Eventually Tony promised to do the dishes if Pepper stopped embarrassing him. Steve looked surprised by Tony's agreement.

"Some things she knows could scar you for life Cap." Tony told him, in all honesty. Steve looked thoughtfully for a moment, and then he frowned.

"I don't doubt that." He shuddered. "Promise never to tell me those things and I'll help you out." He motioned at the sink.

"Really?" Tony brightened.

"You wash, I'll dry." Steve nodded. Tony pouted.

"But I wanted to dry!"

"Okay, I'll wash then…" Steve didn't really care either way. Tony grinned.

"Great. You'll wash, you'll dry, and I'll skip ahead to receiving the gratitude from Pepper," He said. Pepper sat herself on a stool at the counter.

"Tony, if Steve does all the work, then he'll get all the gratitude," She told him, chastising.

"Ah ma'am," Pepper raised an eyebrow, Steve coughed. "I mean, Ms. Potts…"

"Lucky," Tony muttered.

Bruce and Barton laughed simultaneously. Their eyes met for a moment, but Agent Barton frowned, limping out of the room Bruce could say anything. Romanoff came up behind him.

"Don't mind him," She said quietly. Her expression was one of well-practiced polite professionalism. Bruce just shrugged.

"I don't mind," He didn't really, someone walking away without explanation wasn't the worst that had happened to him. And besides, he could think of quite a few things that would give Barton a valid reason for not wanting to be in the same room as him.

"Sure." Romanoff sounded unconvinced. "Anyway doctor, you've got me right where you want me. I surrender to you. Check me out all you like. I'm yours." Bruce stared at her blankly. Romanoff rolled her eyes. "Banner, I need your medical opinion on my neck."

"You kept telling me no," Bruce sighed, for a moment there…"What changed your mind?" He was curious. She had such a tough exterior. He had expected her to continue pushing him away, and denying she was in any pain. Romanoff pursed her lips.

"I haven't changed my mind. Not really. I just want you to tell me it's not a sprain."

"I won't lie to you to spare your feelings," Bruce told her unapologetically. He disliked white lies to begin with. Nowadays he preferred the truth no matter how bitter it became. Besides, when speaking of medical matters, there was no room for lying.

"I know. And I can respect that."

"I'm not a certified medical doctor. A physicist, not a physician," He warned her.

"I'm aware." Romanoff looked at him with her usually impassiveness.

"Alright," Bruce agreed. "Jarvis? Is there an accessible room in this place where I can find medical supplies?"

"_Take the elevator around the corner, and then…"_

Bruce followed the instructions, but his ears still perked up when Romanoff murmured under her breath.

"I'm fine, I am." She was clearly trying to convince herself of that.

"How did the injury occur?" He asked, trying to keep up the conversation.

"My head was jerked to the side," Romanoff gestured to show him. She wouldn't go into further detail. Bruce recalled the frustrated expression on Barton's face when he left the room. He decided not to comment.

"Okay. I'll just do a couple of tests and see what I can tell you."

Bruce thought Tony was right. This place was like candy land. It was a beautiful lab, clean surfaces, the newest, shiniest technology, and most of all, solitude. Bruce located the medical equipment he needed and instructed Romanoff to sit on one of the tables. She hopped up easily.

"First things first," Bruce raised a finger up and moved it left, right, up and down. "Can you follow my movements and tell me when it hurts the most. Where, specifically is the pain located?" Romanoff tilted and turned her head accordingly. "Good. You're movements are smooth enough. Where…?" She put her hand on the left curve of her neck, under her ear.

"Hmm… Excuse me." Bruce put his thumb against her neck and gently pressed. He watched for her any expression of pain out of the corner of his eye. Though, she would probably hide those from him. He pressed harder, feeling the swollen and tense muscle. It was a lot less tense than he had expected. "You've been putting ice on it?" He guessed aloud.

"That's right," Romanoff blinked.

"It's not as swollen as I would've expected by how it looked yesterday. There's some bruising." He removed his hand. "Tony has some fun tools here," He muttered to himself. He eyed a machine that was similar to an x-ray machine. "If you wouldn't mind, I could check for deep nerve and bone damage."

"Go ahead," Romanoff agreed, but Bruce saw a flicker in her eye that might have been annoyance.

"Am I moving too slowly for you Ms. Romanoff?" He asked.

"What? No, take you're time," She said. Bruce raised his eyebrows, bull's-eye. She was in a rush for some reason. Not that it was any of his business. He wouldn't ask.

Having used a more primitive version of the machine before, he managed to set it up correctly. Romanoff sat still as stone as a panel turned and the red light scanned across her. Then it relayed the information Bruce needed into a digital 3D scale model.

Thinking it might be interactive he pinched. He was right, it zoomed, and he pointed out to Romanoff were the problem was.

"You're bones are fine. It's not a sprain, only a strain. Some of the superficial muscles are overstretched, but there's no tearing. More ice, rest, and a skilled masseuse will help with healing and comfort."

Romanoff was trying not to show her relief, but Bruce saw her grip, which had been tight against the edge of the table a minute ago, now relax. "Thank you Banner." An earnest gratitude escaped into her tone. She made to stand, but Bruce shook his head.

"One moment, I'll run and get you some pain medication, I think there should be some in the back over there."

"Banner I don't need—"

"Just take it Romanoff, or else I'll feel like bad fake medic."

She gave him the smallest of smiles.

"If you insist."

Bruce went entered a separate room towards the back. There were rows and rows of pills, all carefully labeled with their uses. That was helpful, though it might take a while to find what he was looking for. He took his time, wanting to be sure of himself. Finally he examined a bottle of pills, nodded to himself. Then he froze, hearing yelling somewhere outside the door. He strode over to the door, and pressed his ear close against the surface. The words became clearer.

"—You know what Tasha? If you want to play house with Stark and the others, then fine, but leave me out of it!" Barton said angrily.

"Clint you need time to heal. There are no new missions for now. Fury has given us a mandatory break and you know how much of a hard ass he usually is with vacation days! I know Stark is a jerk, but Pepper, the Captain and Banner are pleasant enough," Romanoff responded in a more controlled tone.

Bruce shook his head, disbelievingly.

"Pleasant Nat? The Hulk almost killed you," Barton sounded strangled.

Bruce tensed. That was true. He had apologized, but what good was an apology when the Other Guy had nearly taken her life?

"That is not what this is about," Romanoff replied. "This is about you trying to slink off by yourself. There is no problem with going somewhere else to recuperate. You can make all the excuses you like, but if you just wanted to ditch the others then you wouldn't be trying to leave me behind. Explain Clint."

This was getting too personal. Bruce needed to get out of here before he messed something up. He quickly opened the door, awkwardly waving to Barton, who was standing extremely close, almost literally face to face with Romanoff. Neither of them said anything, though Barton's eyes narrowed. Bruce walked over and handed Romanoff the pills.

"Take two every six hours at the most, but uh, it says that on the bottle anyway…I'll just go now." He started towards the elevator.

"Does that clear your conscience? Do you think medication will fix the trauma you've caused her?" Barton questioned darkly. Bruce stopped suddenly, gritting his teeth. An inner growl resonated through him. This man was baiting him—didn't the human know what happened when _he_ was provoked? Bruce shook his head, trying to rid himself of those thoughts.

"Well then Agent Barton, what would you have me do? Is there some sort of salvation you have in mind, or have you grown past such idealistic notions?" He turned. The expression on Barton's face mirrored Bruce's own feelings. Romanoff angled her body to protect Barton, her hand went to her hip, but she had no need to worry. Bruce's anger was ever present, but his bitterness often drowned it out.

Barton stared at Romanoff, "How…can you forgive…?" He murmured, almost wistfully, before stepping away. "Yeah Banner, you're right. Redemption is for kids. I'm a big boy." He shook off the hand Romanoff laid on his shoulder, and stomped away. Bruce thought he must be very angry indeed to put so much pressure on that injured ankle. The elevator door snapped shut.

"There goes Tony's promise of a relaxing environment," Bruce squeezed the bridge of his nose. Romanoff shrugged, her hand sliding away from her gun.

"Not if you go by his definition of the word."

Bruce snorted.

"True," He agreed.

The two of them stood silently. Bruce shifted uncomfortably. Romanoff stared at him intensely before letting out a small sigh.

"Barton is my partner, but he was out of line just now. Loki played us. He caused you to lose control, which wasn't a fun experience. Currently you are in control of yourself, so you are our ally."

"For now," Bruce frowned. "The Other Guy is volatile, he could turn on you without a thought."

"Then you'll just have to keep thinking."

"I'm being serious."

"So am I. When you willingly used the Hulk's power he was the most controlled disaster I've ever seen."

"Controlled?" That wasn't the first word that came to his mind when he thought of the destruction left in his path. "That's highly improbable."

"But not impossible?" Romanoff gave him a cat like smile. "I can get a good read off of people by watching them fight. You showed me that the Hulk can work with others. If you want to get all sentimental, you can even say the Hulk has the ability to care about others."

"What?" Bruce asked flatly. He could blearily remember flashes of images of a falling giant leviathan spaceship, and many lasers blasting towards him but… "Be more specific please, what exactly did I do that exhibited _control_ and _caring_?"

Romanoff crossed her arms. "You really don't remember anything?" She asked.

"Nothing like that," He assured her.

"I was on the ground for most of the battle, and you were above, but you weren't hard to spot."

"I'll bet."

"It was interesting, a couple of your moves relied heavily on strategic thinking," She continued. Bruce blinked in surprise. "Particularly when you fought alongside Thor. Though of course the most remarkable moment was when—Banner, you really don't remember saving Stark's life?"

"What do you mean? What happened to Tony?" Bruce felt his heart beat furiously.

Romanoff was watching his face critically. "It was a sacrifice play, he almost didn't make it back." Bruce swallowed dryly, and waited for his heart rate to decrease.

"…Something about a missile?" He wondered aloud, recalling flames, and a flash of red and gold which must have been the Iron Man suit.

"There was a nuke aimed at the city. Stark decided to fly it into the portal, which I was just about to close." Bruce clenched his fists. Romanoff saw him and lowered her voice. "Bruce...He fell back through just in time."

"Fell?" Bruce didn't like that word.

"Yes."

Bruce's eyebrows scrunched together. Tony had been battered up, he'd said his system was damaged, but to fall from that height… "How is he still alive?"

"You caught him Bruce," Natasha explained. "Set him down on the ground…the Captain thought his heart had stopped. Then the Hulk roared and Stark popped back up again. You saved his life, _that_ shows a great deal of caring and control. Especially when we're talking about someone as annoying as Stark."

Bruce chuckled, though his heart was sinking. "I didn't know," He said softly. "He didn't tell me."

* * *

Natasha left shortly, to look for Clint no doubt, but Bruce stayed back staring at the fancy gadgets lined up in front of him. He spent several hours in the medical lab, he poured over several electronic instruction manuals, and thought long and hard about what to do next. After all that thinking he could only come to one conclusion—he needed to talk to Tony, right away.

Jarvis directed him to the penthouse level, which was basically a pile of rubble at this point.

"Cleaning up?" Bruce asked, seeing Tony rummaging behind the bar.

"That's one way to put it." Tony laughed, coming up with a bottle in each hand. He passed one to Bruce. "Shall we toast make a toast? To the Avengers!" Bruce reluctantly clinked his bottle against Tony's. Tony opened the top with some difficulty and took a long swig. Bruce placed his back on the counter. "I would offer you a fancy glass or something, but most of them were crushed into expensive diamond infused dust."

"I don't drink," Bruce informed him.

"What, cause the BFG* will decide to visit? I'm not asking you to get drunk or anything…though at this point it would be an interesting challenge, the goat-alien boy finished most of the hard stuff."

Bruce paused, amused for a moment before his face darkened.

"I don't get drunk," He said firmly. "I won't." Bruce wouldn't tell Tony that his aversion to alcohol had more to do with his father than the Other Guy.

"Okay, okay." Tony raised his hands up in mock surrender. "But take a seat anyway. You can keep an eye on me, I wouldn't pass up a challenge, but I have to be coherent enough to meet up with Pepper later."

"Well, anything for Ms. Pepper Potts," Bruce said good-naturedly. He pushed some rocks out of the way and sat on the couch. Tony sat next to him, clutching his drink.

"Yeah…" Tony gazed out of the window, longingly. "I really would do anything for that woman." Bruce barely knew either of them, but he believed Tony.

The two of them sat in a companionable silence, until Bruce finally remembered why he was up here.

"Tony, we need to talk."

"You're breaking up with me already!" Tony sounded aghast. "_Me_?" He put a hand on his chest. Bruce rolled his eyes.

"Something like that," He said slowly. Bruce grinned wryly. "It's not you, it's me," He couldn't resist adding.

"Ha, good one," Tony smile slipped off his face. "Wait, seriously?"

Bruce nodded. "I appreciate you giving me a place to sleep, and putting some clothes on my back, but it's time I get going."

Tony shook his head. "Why?"

"You know why Tony."

"No, I don't." Tony frowned deeply. "I like you Banner. A lot."

"I can't imagine why," Bruce muttered to himself.

"There's plenty of room in this place, I've got tons of money to spare, and we could have so much fun together in the labs. Give me one good reason why you shouldn't stay."

Bruce coughed.

"Okay. He's big, he's green, and he's grouchy."

"Oscar?" Bruce frowned. Tony shrugged. "What you don't like Sesame Street?" Bruce gave him a look. Tony sighed. "That's not good enough Banner, I like him just as much as I like you."

It was Bruce's turn to sigh. "You said that in the beginning, but now that you've actually seen him, you have to understand why I need to keep moving."

"So I'll build you a gym," Tony said flippantly. Bruce raised an eyebrow. "No, you're right, that's lame…how about a danger room?"

"A what?" Bruce asked curiously. Tony opened his mouth to explain, but Bruce shook his head. "Never mind, that's not important. What is important is that I get out of here before I cause any trouble." Tony put down his drink and tapped distractedly at his arc reactor. Then he raised a finger in the air.

"Firstly, trouble is my middle name." He raised another finger. "Secondly…you know, when I met you I was just a fan. I was a fan of your clever science brain, and your beautiful green rage monster. Then he saved my ass—I don't know if anyone's told you."

"Natasha might have mentioned it." Bruce replied quietly. "But that…that was only because I elected to change into him. If he comes out without warning…"

"Oh, he will." Tony nodded. "I mean, we can work on it, but nobody can control their emotions all the time. I'm just saying, you need to let loose a little. And mad scientist experiments would be just the thing. I've got lots of shiny equipment, but a sad lack of intelligence—well besides my own brilliance, that's needed to run it all. What do you say Bruce?"

"It's not a good idea for me to stay here Tony. I'm better off on my own." Bruce spoke quickly before Tony's words could sink in.

"Ah, no, I'm positive you're wrong about that." Tony picked up his drink again and took another sip.

"And how would you know?" Something about Tony's presence calmed Bruce…normally. Now all the bristling emotions were hitting him as hard as ever. "Sorry," He added automatically, not entirely truthfully.

"Whatever." Tony shrugged. "I'm used to it." Bruce scowled. "But I _have_ been there before. I don't get close to people. Frankly, I didn't think I needed to. The workaholic, softy Tony with daddy issues isn't nearly as interesting as the billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, superhero me, but he still exists in here somewhere."

"Sorry." Bruce repeated, this time in earnest. He could hear the pain hiding behind Tony's nonchalant words.

"No big deal." Tony grinned slightly. "I've had some experience with criticism."

"Really?" Bruce's sarcasm was evident.

"When someone criticizes me I know I'm hitting them hard enough," Tony added.

Bruce scratched his chin thoughtfully. He had a point.

"Of course, some people just don't like me very much. Some people hate me. Anyway, I don't need a pity party—because well, I'm Iron Man, I'm Tony Stark, I'm practically made of awesome!" That sounded more like the Tony most people expected, but Bruce wasn't sure that meant the other, more vulnerable Tony was any less real.

"You're not that bad." He said lightly. "You come off as a bit of a jackass sometimes, but you're definitely clever, funny…and I know you can be kind." Tony's eyes lit up.

"So you like me too then?" He asked excitedly. Bruce blinked.

"Um, yeah, I guess I do."

"So, we're friends," Tony continued. Bruce nodded slowly, wondering where he was going with this. "We're friends so it's not weird for me to invite you to stay. Friends stay at each other's houses all the time. Or so I've heard," Tony waved a hand. Bruce sighed, for such a socialite, Tony sounded nearly as friendless as Bruce usually felt.

Bruce took of his glasses and wiped them on the bottom of his shirt to give himself some more time to think.  
"You've given me a lot of clothes," He said suddenly.

"I guess, just don't try to pay me back or anything," Tony warned him.

"I wouldn't," Bruce assured him. Even if he felt inclined to do so, even if he had any money, he would never have _that_ much. "I figure billionaires can handle this sort of thing."

"We can and we do," Tony nodded. "Besides, I wasn't going to let you walk around butt-naked." He smirked. "Unless you prefer to—it would be interesting to see how Pepper would react."

Bruce eyed the bar, almost wishing he'd accepted a drink.

"Yes well… we'll never know I guess, as I prefer to be clothed. So I'm grateful to your philanthropist self." Tony frowned, and putting out a hand.

"Wait a second. That had nothing to do with my philanthropist self," He interjected. "That was my friend-to-Bruce Banner self. Didn't you read the note? You really needed a wardrobe update. Maybe we'll go shopping later." Tony walked over to the bar and plopped his half-empty bottle into a garbage can.

Bruce thought back to his old cloths and chuckled a bit. He was aware he wasn't the most fashion forward guy, but that hadn't seemed important when he was on the run, or caring for people in India. Then he caught on to the last word.

"Tony," He called to him. "I'm not staying." Tony walked back over and patted him on the shoulder.

"Sure thing buddy, you keep telling yourself that. We both know the truth."

* * *

**Yeah, so there we go, chapter two. If any of the characters seem off, please let me know. I've got an outline worked out, so I kind of know what's going to happen now. You, on the other hand, will have to continue reading to find out. Hint, we've got some other characters joining us, and more arguments and such. (Note: **I've done some edits, if anything looks better or worse it'd be great to let me know).

**Please review.**

**Thanks,**

**AoiKuroNekoSan.**

* Big Friendly Giant, from a Roald Dahl book.


	3. Playing Chess

_8fangirl8, :) I love Bruce too! Sasasashika, I'm grateful that you decided to read it anyway, and enjoyed it. __Hope you both enjoy the update._

**Steve: Avengers assemble!**

**Tony (sniggers): Did you seriously just say that?**

**Bruce (smiles): It is cheesy, but nice use of alliteration.**

**Thor: It has an honorable sound to it, but why do I not make an appearance in this chapter?**

**Clint: You're guarding your maniac brother, remember?**

**Thor: Ah yes…and I suppose he is violent but I would prefer—**

**Natasha: Boys stop stalling, it's time to start the chapter.**

**AoiKuroNeko: By the way, I own no recognizable characters. Big shot Marvel producers please don't sue me.**

* * *

Bruce smiled. There was no point in arguing with Tony, but Bruce didn't mind doing something pointless every once and a while. However, before either of them could say anything Jarvis interrupted;

"_Excuse me Master Stark, Colonel Rhodes is waiting on your private line."_

Bruce vaguely wondered what a Colonel was doing calling Tony. Bruce expected Tony to ignore the call. Rather than just disregarding authority, Tony seemed to prefer asserting his own higher standing in the flashiest manner possible. Bruce was surprised to see Tony freeze suddenly.

"Rhodey…" Tony's eyes softened to a point of vulnerability that most men tried to hide. "Do you mind?" He asked Bruce in an almost casual tone.

"Huh? It's not as if you need my permission…"

Tony snorted. "I don't need anybody's permission to do anything—well, except for Pepper's maybe. Anyway, I just felt as if we were in the middle of something, but we can pick up with the gooey emotional vibes later." Tony's fingertips danced nervously across the counter.

"Oh…okay I guess." Bruce shook his head. "I'll just…go hang out in one of the labs, I guess."

"Great. Feel free to Hulk out and wreck some of my equipment. I have a lot of stuff and I can afford replacing it." Tony gave Bruce a wicked grin before pulling a customized smart phone out of his pocket. "Heyyyyyyy man!" He exclaimed in a voice of forced cheer.

* * *

Bruce made his way down to one of the empty labs. He was automatically drawn to the sterile environment, but once he got there he was at a loss. What to do next? Bruce grimaced to himself. One idea came to mind.

Ever since that first incident Bruce had been recording its impact on his body whenever he had the chance. In a way collecting data had become a soothing ritual. The more information he got, the closer he felt to getting a cure. Lately though… apparently the Other Guy had saved Tony. Earlier, Tony had said the creation of the Other Guy had saved Bruce. For a long time Bruce was certain that he did not want to be saved. It would have been better if he had just…but then what about Tony? Bruce shook his head. The rest of the 'team' was perfectly capable. Someone else would have reached Tony in time…right?

Data, it was time to collect more data.

He had been working on a prompting a willing transformation for a while now. Yesterday was the first time it had worked completely. The images that flashed through his mind were easier to recall than usual, but they felt like smudged paint even at their best. He wasn't sure what he expected from the transition... more control over his actions? Natasha seemed to think it he had established that but...

Science was the key.

Bruce needed to check what effect the differentiation in his transformation had on his cell structure. His body was an experiment after all, a test subject from beginning to end.

He swabbed the inside of his cheek and set up a slide. The microscope dug into his eye as he leaned into it. The table became littered with papers as he jotted down his observations. There was a lot of emotional baggage weighing on his conscience, but science was methodical. Method was calming.

Sure his deep fascination with the subject had been the deadly catalyst for condition in the first place, but he continued to hope it could also be the solution. So he worked. He nibbled distractedly on the end of his eraser while he tinkered with a particularly quirky equation.

He was so absorbed that he almost missed the sound of someone coming up behind him. Bruce tensed, wondering who it could be. Then he recognized the unmistakably light footsteps. The recognition didn't make him any more relaxed. He spoke without turning around.

"Agent Barton," He said, pushing his voice to come out indifferently. "Do you need something from me?"

Barton forced Bruce's eyes onto him by hopping up on the lab table, his butt crunching against some of the papers as he sat. "Maybe," He said indecisively. Bruce tried not to strangle him for damaging his paper work.

"Right…well, let me know when you figure that out." Bruce gently tugged some of the more important papers out from underneath Barton's ass and went back to fiddling with his equation. Bruce swore hours had passed before Barton finally sighed and spoke up.

"How do you do it?" He asked, sounding resigned. Bruce raised an eyebrow. Do what?

"You'll have to be more specific."

Barton nodded. He pulled a small knife seemingly out of nowhere, and started twirling it aimlessly. Bruce eyed the weapon, waiting for the man to continue.

"You've been compromised before," Barton started slowly.

"What do you mean?" It seemed the more this guy said, the less Bruce understood.

"You've lost control. You've killed indiscriminately," He explained bluntly. Bruce's brow furrowed. He supposed he should have expected something like this.

"I have," He answered honestly.

"And how do…I mean, is there a specific method you use to live through the…aftermath," Did he mean the memories, the tears, the screaming, the darkly coercing whispers? "How do you manage to live with yourself?" Barton pressed on.

Bruce frowned. The question could have easily just been a rough insult, but Barton seemed to be waiting eagerly for a response. "Agent Barton, you are an assassin," He reminded the other man tersely. "Surely you've got better ways of dealing with this sort of thing than I do."

Barton tilted his head. The gesture was halfway between a nod and a shake of the head.

"I remember the face of every person I've killed. It's the least I can do." Bruce couldn't even do that much. "Then the thing with Loki…my muscles recall pulling my bow over and over again, but I can't even guess the number of people that fell because of me. All I know is that it was too many." Bruce's interest peaked for a moment.

"He took away your memories?" Scientifically Bruce wondered how Loki had done it. Emotionally Bruce couldn't decide whether that was a better or worse fate.

"Most of them…there was one…one eye…" Barton shuddered.

Bruce barely knew this man, even less so than the others whom he'd at least had the chance to introduce himself to. Though Bruce was a fairly quick judge of character. So far Bruce picked up that Barton was a quiet, private man. Probably he was a good man too, though it could be difficult to tell sometimes. Still, Bruce had a feeling that it was rare for Barton to ask for help.

"Spare me the details," Bruce decided. What little Barton had managed to say sounded painful enough. "In a sense I can relate. I've been called a murderous monster, and I wouldn't dispute that, and…well I understand the feeling of being raped of your morals," Barton's fist clenched around the knife. The gloves he wore on his hands prevented blood from being split, but his knuckles were going white. Bruce wondered if he had said too much. He continued. "But you're wrong about one thing, I don't live with myself." Though he knew Barton must be going through a difficult time, Bruce could not keep the bitter scorn out of his voice. Barton merely gazed questioningly at him. Bruce was frustrated for a moment, before he realized. At that point Loki was putting everyone on edge. It was a heated moment and Bruce slipped up, announcing one of his failed suicide attempts to the entire room. Barton hadn't been there. He had been too busy blowing a hole in the side of their ship at the time. "I tried to end it, but the other guy wouldn't let me," Bruce explained shortly.

Barton nodded. His mask of sobriety was suddenly very appropriate.

"There are many reasons to kill," He seemed to be thinking aloud. "I suppose there are many reasons for people to kill themselves. Actually, I considered it when I was trying to break his control. He knew. The idea amused, but he said he had grander plans for my demise. I almost completed those plans for him... but she stopped me. Now, if there was ever a reason to live it she would be—" Barton coughed, interrupting himself.

"Ah, great, it's hard to find a reason to live, you hold on to that," Bruce told him, in what he hoped was an encouraging tone. Just because he had attempted it several times himself did not mean he wanted other people to take that risk.

"Reminds me of that expression, let someone go and if they return…" Somehow Barton sounded far away. Bruce could guess what he meant though. "Anyway doc, you seem to be practicing what you preach. About finding reasons to live I mean. You looked really into your scribbles," Bruce huffed, feeling offended. "Plus you find the time to laugh at Stark…" The corner of Barton's lips twitched upwards.

"Yeah, I do." Bruce couldn't deny that.

"Well it looks like life's still got a pretty tight hold on you. You've found a way to stay alive and kicking, so I'm thinking I can do the same." Bruce would not consider himself a role model. "Still wish I could shake it off, that feeling…" Barton added in an undertone.

"You never stop wishing," Bruce told him. An empathetic pause hung in the air.

"…Sorry about your papers," Barton said suddenly. Bruce didn't know whether to laugh or reprimand him.

"They're just scribbles," He teased, trying to downplay their possible importance.

"Hmmm…sure." Barton sounded disbelieving, but didn't press him. He slipped his little knife back into an invisible pocket. "A habit I picked up from Nat," He explained when he saw Bruce watching. Then Barton rubbed his hands together, as if warming up from a chill. He extended his arm towards Bruce. "Clint Barton, nice to meet you," He said determinedly. His expression was an odd mixture of excitement and seriousness.

This time Bruce did laugh. He took Clint's hand.

"Nice to meet you Clint," He answered. They shook.

For some reason Bruce didn't feel so much like going back to work after that. So Clint found a chess board and challenged Bruce to game. Bruce won the first easily. The second was longer and ended in a tie. After the third Clint was grinning victoriously, juggling Bruce's captured pieces. Bruce shook his head in amusement, promising to win the next game.

Then Jarvis called them for dinner.

Everyone was surprised to see Clint's arm wrapped Bruce's shoulders as the archer continued to gloat about his win. Bruce rolled his eyes when Tony gawked.

* * *

Later that night Natasha tapped Bruce on the back and stared into his eyes for an uncomfortably long time. When she finally looked away she was smiling. It was a brightly relieved, honestly grateful smile. Bruce did not feel like he deserved it. Then Tony dragged him over to watch him play a new game of chess against Clint, telling Bruce he was defended him in the name of science. Bruce could definitely get used to the hilarious look of much-less-than-stoic shock on Clint's face when Tony won.

Slowly everyone drifted off to their rooms.

Bruce lay in bed with his arms tucked behind his head, staring at the ceiling.

He was used to sleep eluding him.

He wasn't used to being surrounded by people whose words stuck so stubbornly in his mind.

"_You saved his life, _that_ shows a great deal of caring and control."_

What Natasha had said sounded truthful and complimentary, but she was a spy, so it was bound to be convoluted somehow. Bruce sincerely doubted that thing could ever be so precise. Yet Natasha seemed to approve of both of them.

The two SHIELD assassins were thick as thieves so if Clint had held a grudge Bruce would have understood. Instead Clint sought his advice, trusted him with personal information…and beat him at chess. Why purposefully spend time with the creature that had almost killed your partner?

Then, there was an anxious look in Steve's eye every time Tony made a joke about the Other Guy. Steve could have been nervous about Bruce turning into a giant rage machine and destroying everything in sight. Bruce thought that was a reasonable outlook. However Steve was as honorable as his reputation suggested. It wouldn't be out of character for the captain to simply be worried that Tony's remarks were hurting Bruce's feelings.

Actually, Bruce enjoyed Tony's chatter.

In general, the atmosphere in this building felt so comfortable…yet like most beautiful things, it had to be ephemeral.

Bruce knew he could wake up tomorrow and everything would crumble apart.

He had tried to keep his distance, but these people were too kind. The warmer they were towards him, the more he liked them. The deeper he cared about them, the stronger it would hurt when he inevitably put them in danger.

Of course, they were superheroes, their job was to dissolve danger, and they were good at it. All of their enhanced forms and skills combined might be enough to take the Other Guy down. Well the incredibly human Pepper Potts was also in the building, but Bruce had seen so far the best parts of humanity in her, the caring, the fire and the cheer, rather than the worst. Also, she was Iron Man's girlfriend. Being with Tony that long and living to tell the tales was impressive enough.

Then again, even if they could keep others safe from the Other Guy's wrath, Bruce did not want to become a clean up job for the rest of his so called teammates.

Still, the thought of leaving made him a bit sad.

When had he become such a masochist?

* * *

The next morning Bruce met a brooding Steve in the elevator. Bruce kept quiet, not wanting to bother him. After a moment Steve, blinked and looked around at him.

"Ah, Good morning Bruce…sorry about that, I was a bit distracted."

No kidding. "Bad night?" Bruce wondered. Steve had left after dinner to go back to his apartment.

"I'll say," Steve sighed. "To start with there was a giant-alien-whale-ship sized hole in the side of my building."

"Oh." Bruce winced appropriately.

"I only have a few possessions left that are important to me, those are fine. Stark's offered to put me up for as long as I need, and SHIELD will always be available with their 'secure facilities.' But…there are so many people whose homes have been destroyed, and they have nowhere to go. Worse are the lists of the dead and missing. Bruce, they weren't soldiers fighting for their country, they weren't so called super heroes, they were civilians running for their lives. I used to say that even if you were physically weaker, if you kept standing up for yourself the aggressor would have to back down. Now I'm not so sure. If this future technology and culture wasn't enough to throw me off, now I find out that there are other planets waiting to wage war on us. When I was small everything was above me, so to accomplish anything I only had to push past low expectations. Now I'm strong and everyone's expectations of me are so high…and so out of reach. Those people needed me, and I let them down…it's not the first time I've failed like that but it hurts just as badly."

"That—somehow that doesn't sound like you at all." The words jumped out of Bruce's mouth before he could stop them.

Steve stared. "What?"

"I just," Bruce coughed. "You seem like a guy full of hope you know? If anyone could find the silver lining in a cloud this dark, it would probably be you."

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, that's really nice of you to say but…" He trailed off, a thoughtful look spreading across his face. "Come to think of it, there was this one moment. On my way back I saw these people standing in front of a wall. They lit all these candles and lined them up along the bottom. Then they posted pictures, flowers, and notes to their loves ones. Everything glowed…" Steve closed his eyes, picturing it. Then he opened his eyes and smiled ruefully. "It was a sad scene, but something about it…I felt a little less lost for a second. I felt, I have to do _something_. I've got this strange strength, I can clear away the rubble. I've still got some of my wits, no matter what Stark says...so I can help look for those who are missing. I guess there's always something to be done…"

"There you go," Bruce said gently. "That sounds more like the Steve Rodgers I'm coming to know."

Steve flushed slightly, putting his hands in his pockets. He may be a superhero, a Captain of war, and chronologically over seventy years old, but really he was just a young man trying his hardest to do his best. "By the way…do you know what Stark called this meeting for?"

Bruce shrugged and gave him a look like 'I'm not my brother's keeper.'

"Morning people," Clint said when they reached the top floor. "Coffee's up." He nodded at the pot in the corner.

"I could use some of that." Steve walked swiftly over, looking for a mug.

"Morning," Bruce echoed, stifling a yawn.

"Trouble sleeping?" Clint asked sympathetically.

"No more than usual." Bruce gave him a wry grin.

"Hmmm…Pepper suggested sleeping pills," Natasha said, coming up behind them. "But I find in most situations it's best to be as _responsive_ as possible." She appeared to trying to meet Clint's eyes.

Clint just nodded, staring into his coffee. Natasha glared. Bruce shuffled his feet, hoping to avoid another argument between the two.

"Well coffee works as well as anything for waking up," He said quickly.

"Right," Natasha huffed, pulling a stool up to the counter. Another yawn escaped Bruce's mouth. Just then Tony stepped out of the elevator.

"I could blast some tunes if you're still feeling sleeping," Tony said cheerfully, coming to stand between Natasha and Bruce, draping his arms around them.

"Get off of me before I flip you out the window," Natasha said calmly. Tony removed himself quickly, as if he'd been burned.

"Someone's not a morning person," He commented, pouting. Bruce chuckled.

"I doubt any of us are."

"Thor probably is, and I'm surprised Stars and Stripes isn't more peppy right now."

"He's a bit depressed about the state of the city and also…" Bruce began quietly, glancing over at Steve who was still battling the coffee machine.

"Maybe I should go help him," Clint said suddenly. He continued to avoid Natasha's intense gaze as he slipped away. She crossed her arms and slouched onto the table.

"Anyway metal butt, why did you call this meeting?" She asked Tony.

Tony giggled, pointing at her. "Metal butt…that's a good one!"

Natasha looked at Bruce. "No idea," Bruce assured her, wondering why everyone expected him to understand Tony's random motivations.

"No idea about what?" Clint wondered as he and Steve rejoined the rest. They came bearing gifts of several cups of coffee. Bruce gratefully grabbed one, cradling the warmth in his hands. Natasha gulped it down like it was water after a long desert journey.

"How is she not burning her tongue?" Steve asked Clint in amazement.

"Skills," Natasha answered shortly, placing her empty cup back on the counter. "Does anybody know why we're all gathered here? Stark refuses to say."

"I'm also curious," Steve said with a hint of annoyance.

Tony tapped his foot spastically. "Me three."

"Okay…" Bruce rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Stark, give us a straight answer," Steve insisted. "There are more important things to do than play your games."

Tony bobbed his head from side to side. "Right. I would tell you, really I would, but I actually I don't have a clue."

"You don't have a clue why you called this meeting?" A muscle in Steve's jaw twitched in frustration.

"Well, he didn't call you together Captain Rodgers," A calmly precise voice announced.. Everyone turned to the large opening in the side of the building that led to the landing strip. Agent Maria Hill smirked slightly as she stepped up to meet them. "I did."

* * *

**Okay, finally another chapter uploaded. Seriously, all the great response I'm getting for this makes me jump up and down like a four year old who's been handed a giant bowl of candy! Please keep it up :) If there is any criticism don't hesitate to let me know. Even pointing out a grammar mistake can be helpful. Next chapter we find out why Maria Hill has called a meeting. **

**love,  
**

**AoiKuroNekoSan  
**


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